Memento Mori: Part Five
by Oracle
Angel sat down across from him and set a small .38 revolver on the table between them. Xander just looked at him impassively, the vaguest hint of contempt on his face.

"Go on. Take it," said Angel. "If this is what you really want, then do it. I’m tired of fighting you, Xander. Tired of trying to make you understand who and what I am. So go on. If making ‘Lise an orphan is what will make you happy, pick it up and use it. But it won’t bring your wife back. It won’t bring Buffy back. It won’t change anything that’s gone before. But it will destroy everything that comes after."

For the first time, Angel saw pain under Xander’s anger and hate.

"It hurts so much sometimes," he said.

"Yeah, it does. It never really stops hurting. You just get better at distracting yourself from it over time."

Xander rose and picked up his field jacket from the back of the chair. As he shrugged into it, he said, "If it wasn’t for Elisa, you’d be dead now. You know that."

"I figured."

"I don’t want to do that to her or to whatever of Buffy is a part of her."

"Thanks."

"Don’t bother," said Xander as he turned his back on his old enemy and left the Bronze forever.

Angel emerged into the sunlight a few moments later to find Elisa standing nervously by his car.

"I didn’t hear a gunshot, so I guessed you were okay," she said.

He looked toward Xander, who was already a block away, and then back down at his daughter. "You really are quite amazing sometimes. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by that. After all, you are your mother’s daughter."

Elisa smirked. "I’m my father’s daughter too, you know. You set a pretty good example, although as a teenager I’m not contractually allowed to admit that."

"Your secret’s safe with me," he said.

Elisa put her arm around him and they watched his would-be killer as he walked out of their lives.

"You think he’ll ever stop hating you?"

Angel looked down at the girl who looked so much like her mother, and who carried so much of her spirit and fire. "I don’t know. Probably not. But if anything of your mother’s strength rubbed off on him at all, maybe he can learn to live with it. I feel sorry for him. He’s fought a good fight his whole life, but it’s almost like my demon became his own. He just can’t seem to get it out of him."

"I wish I’d known him before. I wish I’d known her, too."

"You do know her, ‘Lise. You know her because in so many ways you *are* her. I look at you and I see her humor, her passion, everything I loved in her reflected in you. Maybe that’s what Xander saw too, in the end."

They stood quietly for a time, then she said, " ‘He piled upon the whale’s white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole race from Adam down; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart’s shell upon it.’ "

Angel smiled down at his daughter. "Last I remember, you were still watching Sesame Street reruns. When did you start quoting Melville?"

"Oh, I’m just full of surprises," she answered. Then she added, "I go to school, Dad. They teach you stuff there."

"Let’s just hope he meets a better end than Ahab did," said Angel, nodding in the direction Xander had departed.

"I wouldn’t count on it."

"C’mon. I hear a couple of double cappuccinos and a big slice of cheesecake calling our names," said Angel as he opened the passenger door of the car for her.

Elisa punched him playfully on the arm. "Did anyone ever tell you you’re pretty cool for an old guy?"

Angel chuckled. "I’m a *really* old guy, actually."

"A really, really old guy."

"Now you’re pushing your luck," said Angel, moving around to the driver’s side.

"How on Earth did you find me, anyway?" asked Elisa as Angel pulled away from the Bronze, leaving the old place and its memories behind, part of a past none of them would ever be able to change, a past which they all still lived with every day.

He smiled wickedly at her. "Old age and treachery beat youth and skill every time. You didn’t invent that little transponder trace trick, you know."

"I wish I had one of those stupid dads sometimes. You know, the ones you can fake out now and then."

"No, you don’t."

She grinned and looked back out at the road. "Nah, I guess not. I kind of like the one I got."

Epilogue

"You asked me to know you through the people you knew," said Elisa into her recorder as she stared up at the star-filled night through the skylight in her bedroom.

"Well, if you’re out there listening somewhere Mom, I guess I’ve met all of the important ones now. Those few days in Sunnydale helped put a lot of things in perspective for me, helped me to understand a lot about you and Dad and especially about the kind of effect you had on people’s lives.

"And this whole thing’s reminded me how lucky I am to have Dad, who’s always been there for me and who’s been as good a father as any kid could ever ask for. I know you’d be proud of him if you were here. A lot of the time I don’t think I appreciate him as much as I should. We argue and I get mad, and it’s always stupid things. But maybe it’s better to argue about the silly stuff, curfews and dating and clothes, and know that all the really important things will always be there between us without even having to talk about them.

"As for Willow, I should have known she wouldn’t let a little thing like a bullet keep her down for long. She’s something else, but I’m with Dad in not knowing what she ever saw in Harris, or what you did for that matter. Maybe you just had to be there, back with you guys, to understand it. Dad and I, in our own ways, are both outsiders to that bond you three had. I mean, I’ve got friends, and a couple of them I’d like to think are really good ones. But to face what you three faced. . . I don’t know if I could do it, and I don’t know I’d ever have friends who would stand by me and help see me through that sort of thing.

"I’m not sure what I’m trying to say. I guess it’s that in the end, your friendships outlasted your life, and they saved Dad’s. That’s pretty amazing, and it says a lot about you and what you must have meant to the people around you. I’ve got to hand it to you, Mom -- you’re over ten years gone now and you’re still saving people. Don’t you ever quit?

"Well, I’ve just about run out of things to say, so that’s it for tonight. We’ll talk again real soon. Promise. Goodnight, Mom. Wherever you are."

End


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For those of you who think I’m just setting you guys up for something, you’re right. Stay tuned. It’s gonna’ get stranger.

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